


Hetalia High 3: Liza in- Here Come the 2Ps

by miss_swag



Series: Hetalia High [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Boarding School, F/M, Romance, again I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_swag/pseuds/miss_swag
Summary: Elizabeth Kirkland is confronted with the prospect of transfer students. Will they prove to be new friends, or will this turn out more sinister? Find out in the most recent installment of the critically acclaimed, Hetalia High series.((Disclaimer: This physically pained me to write, because I know that no one will ever think it's as funny as I think it is.))
Relationships: France (Hetalia)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Hetalia High [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061069
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

Since the capture of Joan of Arc, and her fall from grace, courtesy of yours truly, the rest of my second year at Hetalia High was a little bit underwhelming—in terms of chaotic disasters—but the calm was welcomed, I must say. No more horrid anti-fan accounts, and no more terrorizing me.

Believe it or not, Mona and I are actually friends now! Yes, I know. That can’t possibly be true, but it is. While she hasn’t returned to school in any fashion, she informed me of her new goals: Mona has decided to become an author. Unfortunately, she hasn’t actually told me what it is she’s going to write about, but she _assured_ me it would be good. I know that I said the two of us are friends, but I really don’t understand her, her motives, or any of her “many talents”.

In other news, following the third phase of year two’s fiasco and the event that has now been deemed as “The Schoolwide Pat Down”, the boys and I have received the name… Liza and The Putas. I’ll be honest, I don’t get that either. But, we’re kind of famous now because of it.

Finally, year two had come and passed relatively uneventfully, and year three began similarly. The first couple of months were a bit boring too. That was, until…


	2. Chapter 2

Even now, it’s hard to believe that Mona and I overcame our (her) differences and have become as close as we are now. We actually have a lot more in common than I had expected. We’ve hung out a good amount since this year started, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little upset that she hadn’t returned to Hetalia High.

Oh, that’s right! I can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself again! My name is Elizabeth Kirkland—Liza to friends. I suppose you could also call me England if you wanted to, but that gets too confusing once you factor in my geeky twin brother. Anyways, back to the story.

“So, what would it take for you to come back to school?” I asked Mona one afternoon.

She exhaled deeply in a seemingly aggressive manner, but smirked nonetheless. She spun on my desk chair to face back towards the desk, rather than towards me. “Once again, there is nothing that you or anyone else could do to make me come back to this cesspool. Nobody here even likes me, and if that wasn’t enough, I’m too busy with other things. If Herakles can’t get me to come back, then no one can. Not even you.” She opened up her laptop that had been sitting in front of her, “Now, let’s do something more interesting, please.”

Mona, somewhere, somehow, picked up a hacking hobby and was good at it. Several of the times she came over were spent trying to see exactly what she could find through her skills. Last week was my brother’s phone, today is Mr. Brandolf’s computer. She typed like the wind; she was so fast that it was difficult to follow her fingers. I don’t think it took her even five minutes before she was in.

“And here we are.”

My attention now belonged solely to the screen before me. Most of what we saw was boring, administrative stuff. Until, finally, something interesting was uncovered. I pointed to the file that read _Transfer Students,_ “Oh, check that one out, Mona.” She did.

She searched around for a few seconds before coming across a few new entries. Much to her dismay, she wasn’t able to explore more of the file as her connection had been shut off from some outside source. “Well, it seems as though the school’s getting three new students sometime soon,” she groaned. “Thanks to some moron, I couldn’t find out any more than that, or the story would lose some of its suspense.”

“What story?”

“Nothing.”

Mona was visibly frustrated, and I was disappointed in her abilities. I thought she was supposed to be good. Whatever, maybe she’s still in training.

Looking out the window, I could now see that afternoon had turned into early sunset, and I had other plans that evening. Mona and I parted ways. I walked out the door like a normal human being—not that I was a normal human being—and Mona crawled out the window…again. Her actions never cease to confuse me. She’s said before that the doorway is too conspicuous, whatever that means.

I found myself, once again, walking to that stupid (Steak n Shake) diner where Gilbert, Antonio, and, of course, Francis, eagerly awaited my arrival. Apparently, they _really_ awaited my arrival, because when I pulled out my phone, I found a missed call from my lovely boyfriend (I literally want to eat nails when I type things like that into this stupid story), a text or two from Antonio, and approximately 246 messages from Gilbert—across several platforms—all saying the same exact thing: _were r u_. Yes, it said “were” not “where”. That was not a typo on my part.

I called Francis back, not wanting to make him worry, and while I expected to hear his voice when the line connected, it was actually just Gil who somehow picked up.

“Vhat took you so long?!” he asked, ever so dramatically. I rolled my eyes, not that he could see, and tried to think of something clever to say back to him, but he cut my thought process off with a very loud, very aggressive, “Hallo?”

“Gil, please. I’m too young and too pretty to lose my hearing so soon. Please stop yelling,” I borderline pleaded. I couldn’t make out any distinct words among the commotion that persisted on the other end of the phone, only Antonio’s laughter.

Then, at last, “I’m sorry, mon amour,” oh, his voice was ambrosia to my ears, “You know we were just worried about you.”

I assured him everything was alright, and that Mona and I were just caught up with something I would tell them about when I got there.

And gotten there I had. I forgot how close the old-fashioned diner was in relation to the school. I barely finished my sentence before I walked inside to witness the boys waving at me. Well, Francis and Antonio waving at me. Gilbert looked like he was having a seizure.

I took my usual seat by Francis, and he snaked a usual arm around my waist.

“Learn how to spell, Gil.”

He ignored me.

Instead, he began to talk about the new song he wrote. The three of us halfheartedly praised him, hoping he wouldn’t talk about it more. And God forbid he sing. The “song” he performed for us last week was about as vile as they came. How he comes up with these, even a genius like I don’t know. His ramblings almost made me forget the crazy news I had to share with them. Almost.

I slapped a hand on the tabletop, “You guys will never guess what Mona and I found today!” Francis and Antonio granted me their attention, desperate to shift the conversation away from “Me and The Bird”, Gilberts new song. Gilbert, begrudgingly and huffily, followed suit. I told of the hacking endeavor and its discovery, sparing no details. When I said the words “transfer students”, the metaphorical gears that resided unused in Gilberts brain began to turn, and we could all tell.

“What is it that you know, amigo?” Antonio asked, placing his hand on his chin inquisitively.

“I overheard vati mention something like zat zhe other day.”

“And?” the rest of us said, in almost unison, as we comedically stared intently at him.

“Und, zat’s it. I don’t know any more zhen zat…so stop looking at me like zhat!”

We were understandably disappointed with this outcome, but at least this confirmed the existence of these mysterious transfer students. And so, we spent the rest of the evening hypothesizing about what they might be like. Antonio and Gilbert both wished for pretty girls, and Francis suggested a bat-wielding psychopath for…some reason. The rest of us didn’t know how to react to that, until he started laughing, assuring us he was just joking. The idea was so ridiculous that we laughed too.


	3. Chapter 3

It was several days before any other news about the transfer students arose. I walked into the school building that morning, and it was immediately apparent that the atmosphere had changed. What happened this time? I couldn’t help but pray that it wasn’t another “Elizabeth hate account”. Who was trying to ruin my life this time?

While I cautiously strolled through the hall, I just so happened to overhear a couple of background characters mention something about three somewhat suspicious boys they hadn’t recognized. And that’s when I remembered: the transfer students! _It must be them. Thank goodness it isn’t about me again, I don’t think I could take anymore_ , I thought to myself.

Still, even if the news didn’t revolve around me, I couldn’t help but be curious about what made these three so suspicious. If that were the case, why would Mr. Brandolf allow them to be here in the first place? People are too quick to judge others.

I was pulled out of my mind palace by Mariia and Kirstein who were desperate for my attention. I—perhaps a bit unwillingly—approached them, ready for anything.

“Liza! You have _got_ to hear about this!” Mariia said “quietly”. Good Lord, she spoke so fast. She _always_ spoke so fast.

It was hard to tell when something that you “have got to hear about” was something that the average (or above average, in my case) person would be able to comprehend, or if it would be something only her and Kirstein would understand. Luckily, this time I did understand. “Have you seen those new kids? They’re really freaky!” As Mariia said this, she shivered theatrically in order to emphasize the level of freaky she meant.

I don’t really think she was in any place to call someone freaky, considering the company she kept. Kirstein sure was a real freak in her own way, but Ivan—who was standing behind Mariia in that moment— seized every ounce of that word. Him and his worn-out pink scarf.

Before I could respond, Kirstein interjected her own interpretation of the new kids, “Well, I didn’t get a good enough look at them, but they definitely look out of place. I mean, the tall one was literally carrying a baseball bat around. Who does that?”

Oh right. One of them _would_ be carrying a bat around. Why wouldn’t he? That makes logical sense.

“I thought I was the only one who saw that,” Mariia again. “That’s something only a psychopath would do! I’m already not a big fan of these guys.”

Ludwig, who had been standing by Kirstein, chimed in, “You shouldn’t judge zhem so quickly, you know. I’m sure zhat zhey are fine.”

Mariia threw a hand up in his face, cutting him off from “spewing anymore lies”, “Whatever, stum dreng. Anyways, I don’t trust them.”

“Right, well, thanks for the information,” I said, slowly backing up from them all, “I have to get to homeroom now.” Thankfully, they didn’t ask me to stay any longer.

I, coincidentally, reached the door at the same time my brother, Arthur, had. Crazy how things like this always happen to me. Whom, just like everyone else, tried to bring up the new kids that I, and everyone else, had already heard of. I stopped him before he could begin, assuring him that, yes, I had already heard. He replied with his classic look of disgust, and I shrugged back condescendingly.

The bell rang only a few seconds after we sat down, and not long after, our homeroom teacher, Professor Caesar, settled the class so he could make the much-anticipated announcement.

“I’m sure that many of you have been anticipating this announcement, but we have three new students who will be joining us this school year.” And with that, they walked in. Mariia wasn’t lying when she said they were freaky. From the moment I saw them, I knew something was off about them, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“This is Oliver, Allen, and Francois.” Each of the boys raised a hand at the call of their corresponding name, “I expect that you all will be welcoming. I’m tired of all the backstabbing that goes on here.” (Ha ha get it? Cause it’s Julius Caesar).

Oliver was the only of the three who had a smile on his face. It was difficult to interpret the true meaning of the smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. He reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t figure out who. No one important, I guess. He wore a pink bowtie that—I felt—clashed horribly with his navy-blue uniform vest.

Allen, the second in row, was very tall. Tall enough that he almost had to duck as when he walked into the classroom. His aura felt dark; the atmosphere change likely came from him. And was he carrying a bat? I can’t believe that Kirstein was right. That doesn’t even make any sense.

And finally, there was Francois. He was certainly handsome—not as much so as Francis, though—but something about him felt off. Maybe it was the way his hair was messily tied back, or his poor posture that was throwing me off.

While I was carefully inspecting the transfer students, I inadvertently locked eyes with Francois. Uh oh. Quickly and without hesitation, I darted my eyes away from the awkward situation that may have unfolded had I stayed. Professor Caesar began talking about something again but I couldn’t focus. Although I wasn’t looking at him any longer, I could still feel Francois’ violet eyes fixated on me. Why does this always have to happen to me?

Much to my dismay, I wasn’t the only one who was conscious of my predicament. Arthur, naturally, was hyperaware of anything that could stir up drama. The bell may have rung, but he was _not_ going to let me live this down.

“Now, what was that all about, Liza?”

“What was what all about?” Maybe if I simply dodged the question he would stop.

But, of course, he never does, “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The transfer student—the stupid looking one. I witnessed all of that, too. Don’t try any of your sneaky maneuvers on me.”

I inhaled deeply before I bothered saying anything back to him, because I knew no matter what I said, it wouldn’t be enough. Finally, “How am I supposed to know?” And then, “I’m not a mind reader. Why don’t you summon up one of your imaginary friends to do that for you?”

His eyes widened abnormally wide, and he gasped exasperatedly. Arthur spent no effort trying to hide the immense offense he took from my “imaginary friends” comment. He began rambling on and on about “how _dare_ I call them imaginary” and a bunch of other phrases that I couldn’t care less about. I’m good at a lot of things, but making Arthur mad was one of my specialties.

At last, he stormed off and I was free to go on with my day without the stress of that whole situation. Although, I would be lying if I said it wasn’t still in the back of my mind for a while.


	4. Chapter 4

Once again, I found myself in Home Economics with Professor Hitler. The class—if you could just ignore his aggressive ways—was an easy A, and not taking it again would have been silly. This time though, instead of only having a mentally unstable monster in there with me, Antonio had joined me.

I took my seat by him around the same time the, uh, good professor began to antagonize Feliciano. It was the same thing every single time: Feliciano would want to make pasta (which, we never did), and Professor Hitler would lash out at him over it saying, “You vill become nothing but a FAILURE if you don’t quit all of zhis pasta nonsense. I’m so sick und tired of you asking zhe same idiotic question EVERY. SINGLE. CLASS.” And then Feliciano would cry like the baby he was, which would only make him even angrier. This was all like clockwork, because I have no other jokes. Eventually, the situation calmed down; Feliciano was now sitting in the corner of the room, facing the wall.

While ignoring our class assignments for the sake of the plot, I began to tell my Spanish friend about what had happened in home room. Although, I did leave out the part about what’s-his-name staring at me.

It was as if the universe itself was out to get me. Before my story could end, Mr. Brandolf walked in the door with exactly who you think he would have. I think he was explaining something to them about the class, but I wasn’t paying enough attention to make out the details. Rather, my attention was darting from place to place because, naturally, I had once again made eye contact with that Francois guy.

 _Great he’s going to think I’m in love with him now, isn’t he?_ I thought, annoyed. It seemed as though he had been _looking_ for me specifically.

My annoyance must have been quite apparent.

“Is everything alright, amiga?” Antonio said, his voice low so that no one else would hear.

I shook my head in disbelief at this turn of events. “What the heck is going on? I’m sure it’s just a coincidence, right? Yep, there’s no deeper meaning to all of this. Just a coincidence,” I said, although to reassure myself rather than answer Antonio’s concern.

His eyes narrowed at me as a result of my _not_ a response, and I probably would have thumped him had I not been trying to divert the attention of one particular individual away from me. However, I was, so therefore, I didn’t. Luckily for Antonio.

I know he knew something was up. We were too close for him to not have. I just didn’t want to talk about this anymore because it was just so awkward! Maybe he understood my situation, and chose to have pity on me rather than delve further into the matter. Or perhaps not. Whatever the case was, Antonio didn’t push any more.

**\--------------------------------------------------------**

Mona came over that evening. And again, she made her entrance through the window.

“You know, you really don’t have to keep doing that,” I reminded Mona. She rolled her eyes at me and explained again how using the door was too conspicuous, and that she’s not allowed on campus so she wasn’t looking to be arrested yet. Not sure what the yet was added for. I guess it’s just typical Mona talk.

Once she was settled in, I dramatically told her what had happened today, and how the new kids had finally shown up. I purposefully left out one detail though. The one about Francois’ staring problem.

“You said their names were Oliver, Francois, and Allen, right?” she asked. She seemed to be deep in thought, twirling strands of her brown hair around her index finger. After several seconds, she came out of her trance empty handed, “I’ve heard those names before, but I can’t figure out where. I’ll look into them more.” And with that, she hopped back on her handy-dandy laptop.

It naturally didn’t take long before Mona gained access to the school’s records again, what with her extraordinary talents and all. That, and she had already gotten in once or twice before.

She pulled up the _Student Records_ section, and began browsing for our targets. At last, we found them. One thing they all seemed to have in common was that they all had gotten kicked out of their last school for various reasons.

“Allen seems particularly dangerous. Says he was in several fights, and even put a kid in the hospital. Oliver looks pretty similar too.”

I leaned over her shoulder to get a closer look before hesitantly saying, “What about Francois?”

Mona looked at me for a moment as though she could stare directly into my soul and uncover all of my deepest darkest secrets. She may be good at a lot, but luckily, she can’t read minds…or at least I hope she can’t. I’m not sure, I haven’t asked her. She turned back towards the screen, “Any particular reason you’re interested in him?”

“Of course not, I just wanted to hear about them _all_.”

“Right, of course.”

Unlike the other two, his record didn’t show any hints of violent outbursts. Mostly just an extensive history of truancy. But that was about it.

We looked around the internet for a couple of hours, but came up short, unable to shed more light on the nature of these mysterious boys. We knew they needed to be watched out for, although to what extent was still up in the air.

Everything that had happened that day kept me up all night. All of this new information was overwhelming and stressful to the point that I only slept a couple hours at most.


	5. Chapter 5

The few days after that restless evening went by quickly—so quickly that it felt as though my life had been set into fast forward. Maybe that was my subconscious effort to subvert any unwanted attention I had seemed to be receiving, and receiving I had been.

Although the other two still appeared unfriendly, I did get a chance to speak with Oliver before one of our classes. And I must admit, he didn’t seem psychopathic! He was far friendlier than his clashing colors came across as. Maybe that means the others are just misunderstood as well.

One morning, as I was walking out the door, I was met by Francis on the other side. I smiled up at him, ever so grateful to see him. He took my hand in his own, pulling me close and kissed my head sweetly. If Nirvana exists, this is where it is. This is true bliss. Oh, today looks as though it’s shaping up to be a good one. I wished him a good morning, and he returned the sentiment.

As we walked together to the school, we discussed various topics that have no relation to this story in any way. It’s times like this where I’m reminded of what a shame it is that the two of us don’t have any classes together this year, and it feels as though any time together is few and far between.

Approaching Professor Caesar’s classroom, my idiot brother slowly came into focus. Literally, why? I don’t know why he can’t leave me alone for five minutes.

“Well, I _was_ waiting for you, but I see you prefer the company of frogs.”

“Oh, haven’t you come up with something better by now, mon ami?”

Whenever Francis said anything to Arthur, you would have thought that he had helped the American colonies overthrow him or something, because he was so easily offended by everything. Of course, I laughed at this exchange, it was impossible not to.

“Listen here, you, I’m not in the mood to deal with your tomfoolery,” Arthur said, trying to take charge of the conversation before he inevitably lost it, “I’m more concerned about the imminent danger radiating off of those transfer students.”

“I don’t think they’re as bad as we’re all making them out to be,” I said. And I meant it, for the most part.

“What do you mean ‘they’re not as bad as we’re all making them out to be’? That Allen fellow carries a bat around with him everywhere!”

“You shouldn’t be so judgmental, Arthur! Maybe he just really loves baseball!”

After a lot of back and forth between me and my brother—me, just wishing to antagonize him, of course—Francis spoke up, “You know, I was thinking-”

Arthur cut him off, “I bet that was terribly difficult for you, wasn’t it?”

Brushing the comment off, Francis cleared his throat and tried again, “And I realized why these guys seemed so familiar to me.”

“More of your family from the swamp?” I flashed Arthur a look that said I was sick of all of his abhorrent comments and that I was, in that moment, close to disowning him; I then proceeded to throttle him, violently and without hesitation, in the middle of the hall, in front of everyone in the general vicinity. No, I didn’t really. I wanted to though, and I certainly thought about it. Instead, I flicked him on the ear for disrespecting my love. He scowled, overdramatically.

“Hm, no, not quite, mon ami. I only know that they are fairly dangerous.”

_He says that about everyone_ , I thought to myself. And I meant that too, for the most part. I don’t know, I think we have the wrong idea about them. They didn’t seem so bad in my eyes. Although, it was nice to see the two of them agree on something for once. We only spoke a little more about it before we inevitably had to part ways.

“Until later, belle fille,” Francis said to me. He could put the angels in heaven to shame. Arthur narrowed his eyes, as though horribly insulted, obviously disagreeing with my opinion.

\--------------------------------------------------------

That day I had what may possibly be the worst class ever. Gym. I hate gym. Why it’s necessary for me to have to go through something so miserable for so long was beyond me. Something about how it would be a good plot point, or whatever that means. And the worst part? It was near the end of the day. So not only would I be miserable, but I would also be exhausted before we even got started.

To make things that much worse, the only thing our instructor, Professor Usain Bolt, had us do was run. That’s it. He’s said that he believes that running is the only worthwhile activity, and we would be wasting our time by doing anything else.

Today, we were supposed to run the dreaded mile. Except the mile with him was never _only_ a mile. You would think that with all the running I’ve had to do, I would be at least a little okay at it. But I’m not. I never have been. And I don’t expect this time to be any different.

As Professor Bolt was explaining today’s events, Francois, who was standing behind me now for whatever reason, muttered curses under his breath. At least I wasn’t the only one unhappy about this.

“This is some kind of terrible joke, no?”

I blinked a few times before realizing that pleasantly low voice was targeted at me. I laughed a little, because he had said exactly what I was thinking, “I wish it was.”

I took a step backwards so that I was now standing side by side with him. He was considerably taller in actuality compared to how he seemed standing by Allen, even with the slight slouch in his posture.

“You’re Elizabeth, am I right?”

“The one and only,” I stated, “And you’re Francois, yes?”

He nodded in response. Throughout this whole exchange, his eye contact remained unwavering. It felt as though he was memorizing every detail of my eyes. Something about him was peculiar, but because I couldn’t figure out what, I chose to ignore any sneaking suspicions. I had no reason to be suspicious.

Professor Bolt finished his long speech and set us off.

I knew this would go badly; I just didn’t know it would be _this_ bad. Within the first ten minutes, the world began to spin and my vision blurred. At this point, I could hardly stand. It seemed as though my future would involve a not so beautiful marriage between me and the concrete under my feet.

But it wasn’t. Hands grabbed my shoulders from behind me, preventing me from an unwanted face job.

“Woah, hey. Are you alright, Elizabeth?”

“I’m just… a little dizzy,” I said, out of breath, perhaps trying to assure myself rather than my savior, “I’ll be fine, I just need a minute.”

“Fille, a little? You almost passed out.” Francois’ voice was calm, even soothing.

I laughed, halfheartedly, despite the lack of humor present in the moment, “Oh, was that what that was?”

“Here.” He wrapped an arm underneath my own in an attempt to support me. Being this close to him, our difference in size was more than apparent (I literally already told you about his height, but please bear with me. I didn’t mean to make him so appealing, it just kind of happened). Although he was thin for his height, I was left feeling like a small, wounded animal in comparison. The faint scent of cigarette smoke was noticeable.

On the way to the nurse’s office, I quietly thanked him several times; he assured me, each time, that it was fine. And before long, we finally had reached our destination. He dropped me off—not literally—and went to go wait by the door. The school nurse, Clara Barton, took me into the back to run some tests that would “only take a few minutes,” that inevitably wouldn’t take a few minutes.

Perhaps only ten minutes into my inadvertent appointment, I heard the door in the front open with a good amount of force.

“Liza! What in heaven’s name happened, mon amour?” There he was. I knew it wouldn’t take Francis long to find out about my incident. He was romantic like that. In a moment’s notice he was at my side, and cupped my cheek in his soft hand.

I reached up to take his hand into mine. “Oh, just another Thursday. Nothing to worry about,” I said, in a teasing sort of way, to assure him that I would be fine. Looking into his eyes, he didn’t seem too sure of that.

I know, you know, we all know that I can be a little—and by a little, I mean very rarely—airheaded at times, and whether it was because of that or for some other reason, unbeknownst to me, Francis often worried for me and my safety. Sometimes, too much. This seemed to be one of those times, because despite my own affirmation that I was, in fact, fine, worry never left his face.

And that was when I realized it. After the nurse had left the room, he had caught sight of Francois leaning back against the wall by the door. _Francois_ was the primary cause of his concern. The atmosphere in the room shifted to mimic one that would be felt when witnessing two angry cats make eye contact. A feeling that I would have liked to avoid. Great.

“And you might be?” Francis’ words carried evident aggression intertwined within his silken voice.

“Does it matter, copain? I simply brought Elizabeth here. I don’t see how anything more would concern you.”

Anger, alongside other similar feelings, was something that rarely gripped Francis. Quite honestly, aside from when he finally confronted Mona (see: Hetalia High 1 for more information), I don’t think I’ve ever seen him upset. Something about Francois must have tipped him off. “It concerns me because she’s involved. You can understand why I wouldn’t care much for someone like you hanging around her, non?”

“Francis, please. Knock it off.” I had to stop this before it went too far. He sent a sharp glance in my direction in return.

Francois smirked at this comment, and exhaled quickly, “You heard the lady. Knock it off, pretty boy.” But before ‘pretty boy’ could say anything, he finished his thought, “Don’t worry too much, I can see when I’m unwanted.”

And with that, he left me and Francis alone in the nurse’s office. Tense atmosphere and all. I’m well aware that he said something else as he went on his way, but it was all muttered low enough that we couldn’t hear it. The chances that it was another jab at Francis was quite high, however.


	6. Chapter 6

Several hours had gone by since then, and my departure from the nurse’s office was kind of…awkward. Francis walked me back to my room, of course, and that was all fine and dandy, but our “conversation” on the way was terribly forced. And no, Francois was not brought up at any point by him or me.

Despite the previous incident, I felt I had to go thank Francois. Whether or not my boyfriend had an issue with him—for whatever reason that was—the fact that he had helped me out earlier was indisputable. I owed him a real thank you!

Since I already happened to be on my way to hang out with the gang, I decided that if I “just so happened” to run into him, I would let him know.

Ah, and would you look at that. I turned the corner, leaving the building my dorm was located, and about a hundred feet directly in front of me was none other than Francois himself. And Oliver, but nobody cares about him. I know I don’t. I literally don’t know why I bothered putting anyone else in this story.

I waved my arms above my head to try to get his attention. They both glanced my way, words that I could not hear were exchanged, and Oliver left just before I was in front of them. He gave me a smile and wave though. That was nice, I guess.

“Elizabeth,” he said, removing his cigarette from his mouth to hold it up lazily between his fingers.

“You know those are bad for you, right?” Naturally, that was obvious.

“Oh, are they?” There was a faint smile on his face now. His gaze shifted from his hand then back to me, “I hadn’t realized that. What would I do without you, chère?”

(“Die, probably.”)

I laughed at his comment, shaking my head, “I wanted to thank you for this afternoon. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.” I paused for a moment, trying to gather my next thought into a coherent sentence, “And I wanted to apologize for the way Francis was acting earlier. I don’t know what came over him.”

He shrugged, and waved me off, “Ah, that? Don’t worry about it. I’ve already forgotten all about it.”

He was so laid back about the whole ordeal. I know that if I were in his shoes, I would probably still be upset about it, but Francois didn’t share that sentiment, apparently. But, nevertheless, I was grateful for his lack of concern.

I sighed a dramatic sigh of relief, and once again, thanked him for everything. I quickly checked the time on my phone, and realized I’d be late to Gil’s if I stuck around any longer. I wished him a good evening and went along my way.

It hadn’t even been a full two minutes before my eyes caught a familiar, handsome blonde not too far away from my current location, en route to the same destination as me. I hurried along to catch up with him, hoping the awkwardness of earlier disappeared.

It hadn’t.

Francis smiled at me, but it was a little different than the usual smile.

“Liza,” he trailed off as he said my name, looking back towards the direction I came from. “That’s odd. Don’t you usually come a different way, amour? What are you doing out here?”

“What? Oh, uh, I just wanted to take the scenic route. It’s just…nice outside right now. You know how it goes.” What a disaster.

He leaned over to kiss my head, and I became aware of the repercussions of this innocent action. He paused for a brief moment that may have actually been a century. At least, it seemed that way.

“Hm, when did you start smoking, Liza?”

My eyes widened against my will, and I discreetly tried to calm myself back down. I ignored his remark.

Thankfully, we safely made it to Gil’s place where him and Antonio had been waiting our arrival. And luckily, no one was killed on the way.

“Vhat took you guys so long?!” Ah, Gilbert, too loud once again. “Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t vant to know.”

Francis rolled his eyes, not in the mood for any of his pal’s jokes.

“Ha, ha, very funny, Gil. How’d you get to be so clever,” I said, deadpan.

Antonio, unlike Gilbert who lived in a constant state of obliviousness, was aware of the uncomfortable ambiance and tried to switch up the conversation, “So, Liza, I heard about your accident today. That’s super loco, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” my response, although present, was terribly distant, “Yeah it was super loco.”

My poor answer caused Antonio to look to Gilbert for help. He nudged him, hoping he would get the clue. I’m not sure if he got what he was meant to, but he got _something_. Gilbert set off into an uncontrollable bout of laughter, “Ja, ja, zat must’ve been hilarious, frau!”

Que my fake chuckle. Que a lack of anything coming from Francis.

“You’re such a loser. Like, valk much?”

Oh, I’m sure he thought he was hilarious, but I, on the other hand, did not, “I actually do valk much, Gil, I do it every day. Just like I’m about to do now.” And I got up to leave.

Francis huffed in response to my abrupt departure, “Leaving so soon?

“Yes, I am. I’ve had just about enough to last my whole lifetime. Now, if you don’t mind.”

He did mind. Minded enough to get up as well.

“I do mind.”

It was almost as though he _wanted_ to make me angry. As though sending me into a fit of sheer unadulterated rage would cure whatever feelings of emasculation he was harboring in that moment. Being the darling-sweetie that I was, I ignored him and picked up my pace as I made my way down the hallway.

I didn’t get far before I was pulled backwards, ever so slightly, by a familiar hand that’s taken hold of my arm many times in the past. Though not as firmly as this time.

“Liza.”

I begrudgingly turned to face him. “Hm?”

“Where are you running off to?” “Away,” I began after a deep inhale, “Away from this. Away from you. Wherever the fates may take me, I haven’t decided yet.”

His eyes narrowed at the “away from you” bit. His eyes that usually mirrored calm skies, now hid a storm. And I was its catalyst. “Why? Is this all because I don’t wish to see that delinquent around you? Perhaps it’s because he _has_ been around you? You certainly allow him to be, despite my warning that he is, indeed, dangerous.”

The outrage! I wanted to scream. To toss myself onto the floor and throw a temper tantrum. To hit the wall, him, or anyone or anything else around. It took far too much willpower to stop myself from doing so, “What’s your problem?"

And that, as they say, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Although, even in his anger, Francis was too lovely for me to compare him to a camel. I don’t know how he does it.

His gripped tightened around my forearm as he roughly—an adverb rarely, if ever, used in correspondence with him— jerked me closer, “My problem? I’m not sure what it is you don’t understand, Liza, and I’m not sure I can put it any simpler than it already is. I abhor the idea of that Francois character being around you. I don’t want to see you get hurt, or worse.”

I ripped free from his grasp, crossing my arms over my chest now, “You’re not the boss of me. You can’t control what I do or who I hang out with. It’s not like anything’s going to happen between us. Why don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not _you_ that I don’t trust. Can you just try to see this from my perspective?” I shook my head angrily, “Look, I have, and I still don’t get it. I’m really not in the mood to deal with you right now. Seriously.”

“Fine then, Liza, fine.” He threw his arms up as he spoke, and turned around and left. I did the same, in the opposite direction of course.


	7. Chapter 7

I didn’t sleep much that evening. I wonder why. Naturally, the mood of last night dragged into the next day, much to my dismay. But the funk that I was experiencing wasn’t going away without a fight. In fact, it only had plans of growing more overwhelming.

It was noonish now as my millionth history class was dismissed—because apparently, it still makes sense for us to take them. I made my way towards the only place on campus I could think of that would give me the solitude I felt I needed. At the north side of campus, on the fourth floor, was a section of classrooms that were scarcely used by the school’s inhabitants. At the very end was a, uh, balcony, for reasons only to serve as a device to move the plot because it was the only thing I could think of at the time, that was my destination.

_Finally,_ I thought, _a much-needed break from everyone else._

Or I had thought I thought. As it turns out, I wasn’t the first person to seek solace at this unconventional location. While I grew closer, a tall, lean figure simultaneously grew into focus.

Was that…? No, it couldn’t be. Oh, but it was. Francois. Again. As though he had some sixth sense with the exclusive purpose of predicting my locations. My footsteps alerted him of my presence, and he turned to face me, leaning back against the railing.

“Oh, fancy meeting you here, Elizabeth.”

“Uh, yeah. You too,” I said, my gaze darting to the ground.

After a few seconds of silence, I lifted my eyes to meet Francois again. I noticed him watching me—studying me—intently before he finally killed the silence that enveloped us, “What’s the matter? You look upset.”

I shook my head. Was it really that obvious? As if I didn’t already have a million things I had to work on, I guess I’ll have to add “hiding my emotions” to the list as well. “Is it that obvious? I guess I am. A little bit. It’s just that-” He cut me off with a thumb to my lips to prevent me from saying anymore, an action that startled me enough for me to take a step back.

Smirking slightly at my reaction, he began with, “Let me guess. Did pretty boy break your heart?” Upon finishing his speculation, he produced an inquisitive hum, urging me to respond.

“Ah, no, it’s not like that,” I quickly said while waving my hands for extra emphasis. I _really_ didn’t want him getting any ideas, “No, it was just an argument. It’s fine, I’m fine, we’re fine, you’re probably fine too, everything’s fine.”

But before I could think, Francois took my hand in his—tenderly, yet firmly—and pulled me close to him in one fluid motion. So close, in fact, that my face was only mere inches aware from his own, and my body even closer. I felt my cheeks heating up from nerves from the nearness, and my heartbeat was so fast and hard that I swore he could hear it too. Although I wanted to move, my muscles decided they no longer wished to work properly. And I found myself stuck in a rather perilous predicament. With his free hand, he reached up to hold my chin, his touch gentle on my skin.

“Oh, is that so? Mon chère, that truly is a shame. I think I would much prefer to see you with a real man.”

A few seconds that felt like an eternity passed by as we stood there in that same questionable position, his eyes admiring mine. Perhaps debating his next move? Perhaps? Perhaps I’m not a mind reader, so perhaps I didn’t know what it was he may perhaps have been thinking in that moment. Perhaps.

Lucky for me, seemingly unluckily for him, I finally found my voice and my autonomy of movement. “Yes, well…this has been fun,” I began to wriggle free from my captor in a most awkward fashion, “Thanks for the advice, I’ll, uh, keep that in mind…in the furthest corner of my mind. But really, I should be on my way now.” Finally, free. And free I wished to stay. That in mind, I carefully retraced my steps from when I first walked out to this death trap of an area.

Once objectively clear of any foreseeable dangers, I hurried my pace, borderline running, away from the past several minutes. I heard Francois’ amused laughter fade out as I put more and more distance between us, my only thoughts being hopes and prayers that this would not set the tone for the rest of this already horribly awkward day.

Well…perhaps I didn’t hope or pray hard enough.

\--------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the day went by far more normal than my afternoon encounter had, but the atmosphere remained stagnant. At this point, I had been walking back to my room, ready to go to bed early to leave this day behind. But yes! Why not have more conflict and more oddities to fill up this disaster of a literary work! What _more_ could even happen at this point? What in the devil is this even building up to? What _is_ even happening at all? I don’t know, you probably don’t know either, we all don’t know but it has to end at some point. Our pain will be over eventually. Ahem…I apologize, the cat ran across my keyboard, I digress.

For whatever reason, Allen—bat and all—along with his compatriot, Oliver, were loitering around in front of my building. Right.

“Lovely evening, innit? And just the lady I was hoping to find,” Oliver said, far too cheerful for a man in a bowtie as hideous as the one he had on. Seriously, I have no idea where you even find something so ugly. And who even wears a bowtie this day in age? “I wanted to ask you for your history notes you took in class today. You see, I had…other business I had to handle during class time, so Allen here was in charge of the note taking. Bad idea as it turns out, this fellow’s handwriting is absolute shit! Huh, who would have known?”

Allen looked at him funny, about as funny as the bat settled on his left shoulder looked, and by that, I mean, really not that funny, “Oh, is that the story we’re going with?”

Oliver patted him on the back in a chummy manner and chuckled loudly, but it sounded so fake as though he wasn’t even trying, “Yes, it is now, my large associate! Don’t ruin this please.”

I blinked many times while trying to process what was going on, “So you want my notes?”

“Uh huh.”

“So, you’ve been standing outside here for mine in particular?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Uh huh.”

“Nor could you ask anyone else?”

“Nope.”

“They _had_ to be my notes?”

“That is correct.”

“Right. Okay. Sure. I’ll believe that. They’re in my dorm, I’ll go get them for you.” I led the way, against my better judgement, up the stairs and down the hall to my room so they would leave me alone. The two boys were particularly conscious of our surroundings, noting every step we took. I think I actually saw Allen counting the doors before mine.

I asked them to wait outside for a minute so I could find my notes for them, and they graciously obliged. After only about five minutes of rummaging, I found those suckers and proceeded to walk back out.

A smiling face and a large man with a bat. Not sure what else I expected. It went exactly as I thought. Nothing changed. “Here,” I said, handing Oliver his desperate desire.

“Many thanks, poppet. I’ll see you soon…around—I meant around.” “Uh, yeah, right. See you soon-around, Oliver.”

I had already forgotten this exchange a few hours later while I was on the phone with Mona that night, ranting about my relationship grievances. I told her all about the argument Francis and I had the other night…maybe I also didn’t bring up some of my unexpected meetings with Francois. I didn’t want to incriminate myself after all.

Mona sighed, “I think you’re reading this wrong. He’s probably just worried about your safety.” I considered her thoughts on the matter, and eventually realized that she may be right.

But before I could let her know that she was the genius she claimed to be, I was interrupted by a popping sound and a plunge into complete and utter darkness. It happened so quickly that my eyes were nowhere near adjusted, and I knew it would take a considerable amount of time before anything became visible again. So, to remedy that, I got up to go turn a light on. The light didn’t turn on. A power outage, most likely.

“Is everything alright, Liza?”

“Yeah, I am. I think it was just a power-” but I couldn’t finish. I dropped my phone on the ground as a strong hand covered my mouth, preventing any further noise. I tried to scream and yell and fight but it was futile when a second pair of hands followed the former’s example. I felt my consciousness slipping now. I heard the dim cries of Mona on the other end of the line. And then nothing. Truly, my involuntary fainting has absolutely impeccable timing.


	8. Chapter 8

Mona continued to call out, hoping that Liza had been playing some sick little prank on her and she had not been kidnapped in the middle of the night by heavens know who. It was pointless, and she was overcome with helplessness knowing even with all of her talents and skills and abilities, in this moment, being on the other side of a phone call—that too cut out—there was nothing that she could have done to stop these events. At this point, all she could think to do was call Francis and tell him what had just happened…not that he would ever believe it. After four missed calls and four voicemails, the line finally connected. Fifth times the charm, as they say.

“Don’t you think it’s a little late, Mona? Is this really so important that it couldn’t wait until the morning?”

“Um, obviously it is that important if I’ve called you five times now. Do you really think I _wanted_ to talk to you?”

He hummed, reflecting on what she had said, “I suppose you have a point. Very well, what is it?”

And with that, the confirmation that he was at least sort of listening, Mona set of on a longwinded, word-journey on what had just happened at the end of the last chapter. She was met with silence on the other side. And she waited and she waited for any sign of intelligence. Ah, no luck, “Uh, hello? Did you even get any of that?”

“Yes, I heard every word of that,” he began slowly, trying to find the right words to say next to really carry the magnitude of what he was thinking, “and what in the Nine Hells are you talking about? That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

The noise that came from Mona was animalistic as she almost went berserk trying to keep her cool. It was some odd growl…nearly a roar. If anyone was there to witness it in person, she probably would have been breathing fire, too.

“Why, please tell me _why_ , I would ever want to make up some fake story just to entertain you at the odd ends of the night? Do you really think I have _nothing_ better to do? Nothing at all? And that I just sit around all day making up fanciful and unrealistic stories just to finish this damn hetalia high fic that I’ve spent far too long on already? Just—for the sole reason—to tell you, you who I have no interest in, in any way, shape, or form, so I can have the satisfaction of having told your sorry French ass some stupid story just because I can? Just for you to ridicule me in the end? Please. I have far too much sense of self-worth to ever actually want to do something like that. And what do you mean the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard? Are you already forgetting what happened in the last story? Joan of Arc ring a bell? If you can believe that, I think you should be capable of believing anything.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll pretend that anything you’ve said in the past five minutes has made sense,” he replied, “I’ll head over to Liza’s.”

And with that, he was met with the click that signified Mona had hung up. Clearly, she had some calming down to do before coming into the limelight of the story again.

With that being said, Francis held true to his promise to Mona. But when he arrived at Liza’s building and slowly opened its door, the reality of Mona’s tale began to sink in when he too was met with the same darkness that had whisked his dear Elizabeth away. He switched on his cellphone’s flashlight and headed down the hall to investigate the rest of the situation.

Liza’s door had been left wide open. Hesitating in order to curse the day he had been written into this asinine trilogy, he walked in to find that the window had also been opened. Carefully looking around to see any more clues of what had happened here, he was met with an unopened envelope on her desk, and with no regards to her privacy—because this was no time to be concerned with such things—he tore it open, hoping that it was relevant.

Oh, it was. Or at least it seemed like it could be. Sprawled out in decorative cursive was just two words: _Don’t bother_. And that was reason enough to call up the rest of the Puta Patrol. Uh, or at least that’s what him, Gilbert, and Antonio had been referred.

Almost comically fast, Gilbert was the first to arrive. Perhaps it was the kinetic energy from his speed, or perhaps of its own volition, the power came back on shortly after. Not long after, as Gilbert was still trying to catch his breath, sputtering out gibberish that Francis didn’t even bother trying to comprehend, Antonio walked in alongside Mona. Mona who was now finally calm enough to take the POV back. For the most part.

The letter was passed around between our motley crew as they all sat there wondering, in silence, who it could be. Well, silence until Resident Big Mouth spoke up, “Hmm, it must be a girl. See, look at zhis,” he said pointing at the words, “Look how girly zhe handwriting is.”

“Ah, astute observation Gilbert. It’s almost like men can’t write in cursive or something. How could I have forgotten?” Mona said, words full of poisonous sarcasm. Gil proceeded to pout about it. “Well, I’m at a loss, and if I can’t figure it out right now, I know none of you can. We’ll have to go investigate.”

And they all agreed and discussed their plan of attack. A plan of attack that included giving Gilbert a beating stick so he would feel as though he was helping. Not that he was.

\--------------------------------------------------------

It had been roughly twenty minutes since they had set off on their wild goose chase. Twenty minutes in and, still, not a single clue. That was until they spotted two figures in the night, crouched behind a large tree in the yard. Red flags abound. Immediately, Gilbert sprang into action with the weapon of mass destruction he had been so graciously given. As ridiculous as one could imagine, he lunged, beat stick in hand, but before he made contact with the closest indistinguishable figure, he stopped his attack that would have meant certain death for its recipient. It was only Mariia and Kirstein, hiding from whatever menacing creature they had conjured up from their imaginations this time.

“Gilbert!” Mariia whisper-shouted, “What are you doing? Are you trying to blow our cover?”

Stunned and confused, Gilbert opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the words to respond. The two of them both seemed terribly frightened of something, and Mariia’s concern was genuine. As he stood there, uselessly, Mona finally asked the question they were all wondering—except Gil, he was more concerned with the fable the two mentally unstable girls were afraid of. “Did you happen to see anything suspicious while you’ve been out here,” she paused for a moment, “ah, hiding? Maybe your, uh, pursuer is relevant to our search?” Whenever dealing with those two, it was important that you be careful of anything you say or do because they were so unpredictable.

Mariia still looking around madly, Kirstein spoke up, “Not likely. Unless you’re searching for a maniacal demi-human offering up free puppies, then I doubt it.”

“What in the hell?” Francis muttered under his breath, obviously not in the mood to deal with them right now.

“Although, I do have information that you may be interested in. Granted you can offer us enough in return,” Kirstein began again, “Offer us safe passage, and me and my comrade will be more than happy to share what we know with you.” Mariia nodded frantically.

Mona looked at the three boys with her, all coming to an unspoken agreement that it may be worth it. “Alright. We’ll keep you safe from…it.”

Kirstein, with Mariia’s help, explained how they saw two people go by, though they couldn’t give any more details than that. Nothing discernible, nor a general direction. It had been the crap shoot they all expected it would be. But they couldn’t take it back now. Well, six heads are better than four, as they say. Mona thanked them, begrudgingly, and then told them what was going on with Liza. They were enthusiastically on board.

“The information was borderline useless, yes, but I have eyes and ears all around this campus. No one could have gone by without me finding out about it,” Mona told them. In almost the same moment her sentence was finished, an almost human shaped form fell out of a tree directly in front of them. This, of course, set Mariia and Kirstein of into a fit of hysterics that began as panic but turned into them laughing so hard they could barely stand. In fact, Mariia couldn’t. But everyone ignored them because it was for the best to pretend they didn’t exist. And it didn’t take long for the rest of the crew to realize that it was Herakles who fell down. Why was he in a tree? Who knows?

“Hello, my eyes and ears of Hetalia High,” that was Mona of course, “Have you anything useful for us?”

He nodded, facial expressions never changing, “I think so. So, listen to this, two guys were walking across campus from that direction,” he pointed back towards Liza’s dorm building, “One of them was pretty large—not someone I’d want to mess with. The other one was much shorter, a little easier to manage. But here’s the weirdest part. The big guy was carrying something with him…he might have had something else in his other hand too. Could’ve been a bat I couldn’t tell you what either was though.”

Everyone, except Mona, was utterly clueless. Mariia and Kirstein still couldn’t get over Herakles falling out of a tree; Antonio stood in deep thought trying to put the pieces together; Francis grew increasingly frustrated at the lack of progress being made to find Liza; Gilbert didn’t know what was going on.

Finally, Mona had to spell it out for them. If not for her, they would get nowhere, “Earth to morons! It’s pretty obvious who we’re up against now.” She was met with many different facial expressions, all of which masked cluelessness. “Guys, that sounds exactly like Allen and Oliver. Why do I have to explain everything to you all?” There was a party-wide “oh”, indicating that they had finally gotten what Mona got much sooner.

Suddenly, Mariia gasped. Everyone was now paying attention to her. While lying on the ground, she uncovered a footprint. And that footprint led to another set of footprints very close by. At last, a break that would help their ridiculous endeavor. All focus was now centered on following this trail.

So they did, and it led straight to Professor Washington’s cherry trees. And what they found on closer inspection was a hidden door that no one had ever seen before. A hidden door that made no sense for being there. No, seriously. There’s literally no reason that that would be there.

“This must be it,” Mona confirmed.


	9. Chapter 9

After who knows how long, I finally regained consciousness. I was definitely awake at this point, but it felt like a fever dream because, good heavens, I couldn’t even begin to guess where I was lying. The room was cold and there were no windows. The only exit I could find was a wooden door on the far end of the room. I tried to stand up, but I was still terribly dizzy so I abandoned that idea. All I could do now was wait for someone, or something, to show up.

Well, that didn’t take long. Moments after I had sat up, the door opened. No way. No, really, what is happening? Uh, freaking, oh.

It was Francois. He closed the door and put out the cigarette in his hand on the stone wall behind him, tossing it to off into the abyss before walking nearer to me on the other side of the room.

“Care to explain what’s happening? Maybe? I think that’s the least you could do.”

He crouched down in front of me so to be eye level with me, “You’re awfully pretty when you’re frightened, Elizabeth.”

I scoffed, “Me? Frightened? Never. Now, what’s going on.”

“Tell yourself what you’d like, mon chère, you just continue to affirm my actions,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear, “I happen to find you extremely interesting. Intelligent, independent, and incredibly beautiful. All you’re missing is someone who can appreciate you the way you deserve. Someone such as me.”

“What? But I’m…but I already _have_ someone.”

“Do you? I’ve told you before, but you’re wasting your time on him. I know how stubborn you can be, so I took matters into my own hand. You and I will leave this dull place in a few hours. You can come with me by your own wishes, or I can take you by force, the choice is yours,” Francois stood back up now, his figure towering over my curled-up position, “Elizabeth, pretty Elizabeth, you may not understand now, but I promise you will in time. And you’ll be grateful for it.”

\--------------------------------------------------------

The objective now clear, Francis took the initiative and was the first to make his way down the stairs, desperate to bring Liza back to safety. Mona followed, as did Antonio, Mariia, Kirstein, and Gilbert, in that order. Knowing full well they were all in unknown territory, they were as quiet as could be. Or at least they thought they were sneaking. Or maybe they actually were, it’s debatable really.

However, their façade was ruined when Gilbert sneezed so loud it reverberated down the hall. Of course, this caused a chain reaction. Mariia tried, but she couldn’t contain her laughter. The hysterics of the situation was too much for her poor psyche. Now, Kirstein was angry at her, trying to get her to stop laughing, saying things like, “you’re a disaster” and “do you even know the situation we’re in.” Mona now became angry at everything taking place. Angry that Gil had the audacity to sneeze, now, of all times, angry that Mariia could even think that was funny, because it was _not_ , angry because she knew Kirstein berating her would only make it worse, angry that she was even here in the first place. Sheer blood lust emanated from her. And, of course, Francis was terribly frustrated because he was “the only one taking this seriously” and “maybe they didn’t care about Liza but he did.”

As though a blessing sent straight from heaven, Antonio was the voice of reason, “Hey you putas, you’re going to get us caught if you don’t all stop.”

They all stopped. But not because of anything he said.

“Uh, Antonio?”

“Si?”

“Turn around.” He did. Turned around to face the beginning of the final battle. Standing before him now was Oliver and Allen, the bat included of course.

Before anymore words could be shared, the fight began. Gilbert, Mariia, and Kirstein were deployed. Mariia went straight for Allen’s legs in hopes of knocking him off his feet, while Kirstein lunged for his bat to prevent any untimely deaths. Gilbert, however, took a more offensive approach. This was his time to shine, after all. He began whacking Allen with his beating stick, but even his mighty beating stick was no match for the inhuman monstrosity that was Allen Whateverhislastnameis.

“You all keep them back, and I’ll go find Liza!” Mona called out to the rest. However, Francis was way ahead of her. He had taken off the moment Antonio had engaged Oliver in a one-on-one, mano a mano, bout of fisticuffs. Noticing this, she hurried along to catch up with him, “Or go on ahead without me. Whatever works. Jerk.” He never did catch that last “jerk”.

Once the pair had put enough distance between them and the fighting, Francis spoke up, “Any idea where she could be?”

“Oh, not even the slightest clue. I just figure we can keep walking to the room at the end of the hall. Seems like that could be a good guess.” And it was. Because Mona’s intuition is always spot on.

Swinging the door open, full force the pair were faced with…

…and as the door flung open, Francois and I were no longer alone. Oh, joyous day! Francis and Mona had come for me! There was considerable noise down the hallway, but I didn’t know, nor care, what it was. All that matter was that I was saved…or so I thought. I wasn’t the only one who noticed our new company, my captor had as well. Quickly, Francois wrapped one arm around my middle section, and the other he used to hold me in place by my shoulder. His grip was unrelenting; I couldn’t fight my way out like this.

“Just go back to where you came from, and I won’t have to harm anyone,” that was Francois.

“Listen here you bastard, I’m not leaving without Liza,” and that was Francis.

As Francois began to go off on a long boring rant about how he deserved me more because he was a self-proclaimed real man and blah blah blah, his gripped loosened, just enough so I could wiggle out, headbutting him straight in the chin on my way out. He was now disoriented, and I ran over to the other side of the room where Francis was waiting to take me into his arms. Safety at last.

At the same time as I escaped, Mona sprang into action. Now standing in front of us, she took to the martial arts crane stance, “You two! Get out of here, I’ll take care of the rest.”

So, we did.

Running back down the hall we joined back up with the rest of the group, who had successfully subdued Oliver, Allen, and the bat, all of who had been tied up with rope someone happened to bring with them. It was probably Gil. Everyone was overjoyed, to see me again. To see me safe and in one piece.

“Where’s Mona?” asked Antonio, “Did she not come back with you?”

I shook my head.


	10. The Final Act

It had been a month since that whole fiasco. It’s like I can never get a break, it always has to be something. Until now. Now I have a break. With the events of that night coming to light, Mr. Brandolf deemed these accusations as damning evidence, and the three delinquents and the bat had to walk the walk of expulsion. No one wants to walk that walk. But they did. And it was indeed serio, as Antonio would say.

Even better, Francis and I had made up. I realized that, for the first time in my life, I had been in the wrong about everything. Maybe I should listen to his advice a little more sometimes, just maybe. And I also learned my lesson on not trusting absolute sociopaths. Man, I don’t even know what I was thinking! What a dummy! Ha ha silly me, it’s almost as though every sign in the story was telling me they were bad news, haha so funny.

Although there was good news, there was also bad news. No one had seen Mona in a month since the final showdown under Washington’s cherry tree. She was completely MIA, and no one had any closure on what had happened to her that night. Was she hurt? Did she win? Was she…no she couldn’t be? Everyone there that evening was saddened, to some degree or another, that she was missing. Despite everything we had been through earlier, we had all been grateful for all of her help. It was too bad that we weren’t able to properly thank her…

One afternoon, I once again found myself in my room with the usual suspects, Antonio, Gilbert, and of course, my lovely—I want to eat nails—boyfriend, Francis (when I tell you that one was painful to write…it was). We were laughing about the same old nonsense as usual. Gilbert had written a new song, we were begging him not to perform it for us, and Antonio was not having it. After his encounter with Oliver, and their bout of fisticuffs, mano a mano, he decided that he was the leader of our group because he was “the strongest,” and used this to antagonize Gil to the max. Last time I checked, it was _Liza_ and the Putas, but whatever. Have it your way.

Before Francis and I were forced to witness a murder, there was a strange knock on the window that forced all of our attention to it.

“What in the world was that?” I asked, getting up to look out the window.

And it was…

Mona! I came face to face with Mona who was, uh, climbing up the tree by the window in order to climb in. So that’s how she did it. Would you look at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you actually read this, all I have to say is that you are powerful, and your willpower is strong enough to take on an entire army. May your life be beautiful. 
> 
> Love, 
> 
> miss_swag


	11. Epilogue

It was a battle of wits now or fists as th case may be and in thai s case it aws fists. On one ned of the disgusting and dark alleywahy stood Mariia and Kirstein….and the other end? Oh frick oh frack omg omg is thatNOOOOO IT’S THE EREEEFREEEEE PUPIIFS GUYS NOT OMOG MSNOGJ SOFJOSJoJO WHO will win?????? OH no oh goasddh


End file.
